


The Ones Who Entertain

by LiveLaughLoveLarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Circus, Angst with a Happy Ending, Carnival, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Summer, Summer Love, Summer Romance, The end of summer doesn't have to be the end, captain niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6790204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLaughLoveLarry/pseuds/LiveLaughLoveLarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt I based this on was: "Louis, Niall, and Liam are three friends looking for a summer job before they head off to university. Their extraneous efforts and lack of motivation lead them to a world famous traveling carnival staying in town for 3 months. Louis works in a shitty game booth, Liam cleans up the elephant poop, and Niall is supposed to be working the ticket booth but honestly he just does whatever the fuck he wants. All is well until they meet Harry (a palm reading, dream analyzing, plant whisperer) and Zayn (“the hot bloke in the genie costume that does shows with the elephants”). Fortune telling, cleaning up elephant shit, and romance ensues."<br/>Honestly, that pretty much sums it up.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Hi guys,” Curly said. “I’m-”</em><br/><em>“Hanzi the All-Knowing,” Niall said.</em><br/><em>“Harry,” Curly said.</em><br/><em>“Hot,” Louis said. There was a momentary pause, and everyone looked at him. Oops.</em><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ones Who Entertain

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE thanks goes to [Scarlett](http://truthtattoos.tumblr.com) for the last minute Britpicking.
> 
> I also want to express my thanks to the people behind Ficathon for putting this all together. To read more about what this is all for, you can check [here](http://ficathon2016.tumblr.com/about). And to donate to any of the boys' charities, go [here](http://ficathon2016.tumblr.com/donate)! 
> 
> Title from Britney Spears' "Circus"
> 
> Warning for mild homophobia and past shitty parenting.

“Hey! I want my doggy! Give me my doggy!”

The little girl, she couldn’t have been more than eight, threw herself down on the ground and began to wail, pounding her tiny fists on the ground. Louis grimaced – he knew what horrors that ground had seen. The girl’s parents at least had the grace to look sheepish as they picked up their screaming child and carried her away, apologizing profusely. Louis plastered on a gracious smile and said nothing.

It was times like these he wondered how the hell he’d let Niall talk him into this.

Such moments were usually immediately followed by remembering that Niall hadn’t so much talked him into this as signed him up for this without asking. Still, it could be worse. Liam had gotten elephant shit duty.

“Ring toss, ten tries for only two pounds!” Louis called, trying not to sound bored. It wasn’t easy. “Land on the gold bottle and get any prize!”

The game was horribly overpriced, not to mention nearly impossible to win. Louis had been working the booth all week and seen less than a dozen success stories. Most of them had been adults, and most of _them_ had looked less than pleased when they realized they’d just won a stuffed animal almost as big as they were, which they would now have to carry around for the rest of the day.

“How’s business?”

Louis jumped and spun to see Niall walking into the booth.

“Fine,” Louis said. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be working at the candy floss stand or something?”

“Ticket booth,” Niall corrected absently. “Though that’s not a bad idea, now that you mention it.”

“Ticket booth, candy floss stand, who gives a shit?” Louis said. “Why are you here and not there?”

“Me?” Niall said, picking up a ring and spinning it around his finger. “I’m on break.”

“You get breaks?” Louis exclaimed. “I don’t get breaks! Why do you get breaks?”

“Keep your voice down,” Niall said, and Louis suddenly remembered that he was also supposed to be working. A quick glance out at the crowd showed that at least one parent had heard his outburst, and was giving him a sour look. He flashed them a smile before turning back to Niall. Even if they complained, he’d talked himself out of bigger holes.

“So anyways, I took a look around the place earlier,” Niall said. “It’s quite an extensive operation. You already know about the games and the animals – Liam sends his regards by the way – but they also have quite a team of performers and entertainers.”

“And you are telling me this because?”

“Just sussing out the options.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Niall, is getting laid all you think about?”

“No!” Niall said, looking offended. “I also think about lunch. And occasionally even my friends.”

“By which you mean getting your friends laid,” Louis said, a single eyebrow raised.

“Naturally.”

“Okay, first off, that’s gross and weird and creepy,” Louis said, turning to gather up some fallen rings. “And secondly, I do not need you sticking your nose in my business. Keep it to yourself.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to hear about the mega-hot fortune teller with the curly hair?” Niall asked. Louis bit his lip, tempted in spite of himself. Curly hair was his kryptonite, and Niall knew it, his smile growing wider. “Green eyes, too,” he added, and it took all of Louis’ willpower to lift his hand and point it warningly at Niall instead of sitting down on the ground and begging for details. He totally hadn’t considered that. That would be pathetic and desperate, which he wasn’t. At all.

“No,” he said. “You are not going to tell me about anyone. You are going to butt out of my love life. Also, you are going to go back to the hot dog stand and do your fucking job so you don’t get fired before the first week is over, because you got us into this and you will suffer the consequences with us.”

“Candy floss stand,” Niall corrected. Louis’ brow furrowed.

“Wasn’t it actually the ticket booth?”

“You know, I honestly don’t care,” Niall said, and walked out of the booth. Louis stood there for a moment, then shook his head. Niall was truly one of a kind. That was probably a good thing.

~*~*~

Louis met up with Niall by the staff car park when the day ended. They’d settled on a carpool arrangement for the summer, with Liam driving since he was the only one who actually had his own car (dilapidated though it was). Liam was the last to show, as usual. He always took a shower after work, which, though it slowed up the works, Louis was immensely grateful for.

“Hi guys,” Liam said breathlessly when he finally arrived. His hair was damp, and half of it was plastered to his head while the other half was sticking out every which way. “So Zayn – he’s one of the performers who works with the elephants – he’s invited us – well, me, but he told me to bring my friends – to hang out with him tonight.”

“Is he the one who wears the genie costume?” Niall asked. 

“Liam glared at him. It’s just a turban,” he said tightly.

“And those sick, flowy trousers,” Niall added.

“Yes,” Liam said, looking like he would like to throttle Niall. “Those too.”

“And no shirt.”

“And that,” Liam agreed, his lips a thin line.

“So as to best display his impressively muscled torso.”

“Yes, him!” Liam snapped at last. “He invited us to hang out with him and his friend at his trailer. Do you want to come or not?”

“I’m in,” Niall said. “I just wanted to make sure I had the right guy.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be straight?” Louis asked Niall mildly.

“What, just because I don’t like dick I can’t appreciate a gorgeous hunk of manflesh?” Niall asked. Louis blinked.

“I’m not even going to respond to that.” He turned back to Liam. “But yeah, I’ll come.”

“Okay, great,” Liam said. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” Louis said, startled. Liam looked at him.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, just… surprised,” he said. “What about dinner?”

“Zayn said his friend is a great cook,” Liam said. “He’ll make us something.”

“So this is actually an invitation to dinner more than an invitation to hang out,” Louis said. 

Liam shrugged. “Can’t it be both?”

“It can,” Louis said. “But either way you should probably fix your hair first.” 

Liam lifted a hand to his head. “What’s wrong with my-” His eyes widened as he felt the absolute disarray his hair was in. “Oh no.” He patted at it, trying to smooth it into some kind of order. “Shit, have did I look like this when he was talking to me? No wonder he was staring at me like I had nine heads. Is it better?”

“Calm down, Liam,” Louis said, stepping in and grabbing him by the wrists. “Let me.” Liam obediently lowered his hands and Louis set to work corralling his wayward hair.

“He must think I’m an idiot,” Liam moaned as Louis worked. “I mean seriously-”

“He invited you to hang out with him anyways,” Niall pointed out.

“That was in the shower,” Liam said. “He’s probably regretting it now.”

“Wait, you showered together?” Niall asked. Liam glared, but his cheeks were faintly pink.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s communal, was I supposed to wait for him to finish?”

“I’m just saying,” Niall said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Most guys don’t invite each other to hang out while butt naked.”

“Well, he did,” Liam said. “And I’m going. You can come or not. I don’t care.” With that, he stomped away. Louis and Niall exchanged glances. After a moment, Niall spoke.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to realize you weren’t done with his hair?” Louis laughed.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to miss his face when he does.”

~*~*~

Liam mounted the steps to the small trailer and knocked twice. The door was opened only a moment later by a dark man with chiselled features and perfect hair. Louis nearly choked. He could see why Liam was infatuated.

“Hey Payner!” the guy exclaimed. Liam grinned.

“Hey Zayner.”

Niall and Louis exchanged glances.

“Payner?” Niall asked, his voice incredulous.

“Zayner?” Louis replied, equally surprised.

“Zayn, these are my friends Louis and Niall,” Liam said, turning to point to them. “Niall’s the blond, Irish one.”

“Hey,” Niall said, raising a hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Zayn said, descending the steps and extending a hand. Niall shook it, and Zayn turned to Louis.

“That leaves you to be Louis,” he said.

“Guilty as charged.” He shook the proffered hand. “Pleasure.”

“Well, come inside, all of you,” Zayn said. “Harry isn’t here yet, but he should be soon.”

“So he’s your cook?” Louis asked as they filed inside. The trailer was surprisingly spacious, the furniture sparse and stylish. It felt like something out of a home design magazine, mostly monochrome and full of sleek surfaces and sharp edges.

“Yeah,” Zayn said, heading to a mini fridge on the other side of the room. He pulled out a six pack of beer and offered it around. “I figured out he could cook a week after he joined up here, and I haven’t let him go since. Not much of a cook myself, so he’s been invaluable.”

“Sounds familiar,” Niall said, elbowing Louis in the ribs. “Remember the time you set the tea towel on fire?” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “That was one time,” he said. “One time, and you’ve never let me forget it.”

“What are friends for?” Niall said. Louis opened his mouth to defend himself, but Niall cut him off. “Besides,” he said, “the tea towels might have only been once, but you’ve burned pretty much everything else you’ve tried to cook too.”

“I wasn’t trying to cook the tea towel,” Louis pointed out. “That would just be weird.”

“You are weird,” Liam said.

“Says the guy who’s afraid of spoons,” Louis retorted. Niall laughed, leaning against the window. Liam glared.

“I’m not afraid of them, I just don’t trust them.” 

Zayn looked like he was stuck midway between laughter and bafflement. Louis tended to have that effect on people. Niall poked Louis’ arm hard, but Louis ignored him.

“Do they have a tendency of going behind your back?” he asked. Liam didn’t respond. Niall tapped Louis shoulder.

“You’re really afraid of spoons?” Zayn asked Liam.

“I just don’t like eating with strangers’ spoons,” Liam said tiredly. “They could be dirty. I know it doesn’t make sense.”

Zayn shrugged. “We all have our quirks.” Liam glanced up at him, but said nothing. Niall poked Louis one more time, and Louis turned around.

“ _What,_ Niall?”

“Look at-”

At that moment the door opened, and in walked – the hottest guy Louis had ever seen.

He was tall and lean, with legs that went on for days shoved into skinny jeans tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination. His hair was long and thick with just a little bit of wave in it. Louis wanted to run his hands through it. His face – God, his face – was absolute perfection, with sparkling green eyes and a full luscious mouth that Louis was already dreaming of tasting.

“That’s him,” Niall hissed from beside Louis. “That’s the guy I was telling you about. The fortune teller. Was I right or was I right?”

Ordinarily, Louis would have immediately responded with a scathingly sarcastic quip. This time, however, he was absolutely speechless. Niall glanced over when he didn’t get a reply, and then smirked.

“I was right,” he said. “Now put your tongue back in your mouth or he’ll notice you’re ogling him.”

“I am not ogling,” Louis said, knowing full well he was. Fortunately Liam spoke before he had to come up with a defence.

“Is this your friend, Zayn?”

“Yep,” Zayn said. “This is our resident cook and occasional fortune teller. He’s better at one than the other.”

“Hi guys,” Curly said. “I’m-”

“Hanzi the All-Knowing,” Niall said.

“Harry,” Curly said.

“Hot,” Louis said. There was a momentary pause, and everyone looked at him. Oops. “It’s sweltering out,” Louis said quickly. “You must be hot. Have a beer.” In fact the weather had been chilly of late, even for England. Liam was actually wearing a jumper, being the responsible one and all.

“Are you offering _my_ friend _my_ beer?” Zayn asked after a moment. Everyone laughed at that, and the momentary tension was broken.

“Well you weren’t,” Louis replied. “Someone had to play the host.”

“Harry has spent enough time in my home to know that my beer is his beer,” Zayn said.

“As long as he keeps cooking, that is?” Louis was in his element now.

“That’s right,” Zayn said with an easy smile, and it was official: Louis liked Zayn. “Speaking of which,” Zayn continued, “what’s for dinner, O Great One?”

“I was thinking stromboli,” Harry said.

“I have no idea what that is,” Zayn said, slapping him on the back. “But I’m sure it will be delicious.”

~*~*~

“You have my approval, by the way,” Louis told Liam as they drove home that night.

“What do you mean?” Liam asked.

“To date Zayn,” Louis replied, putting his feet up on the dashboard. “I like him.”

Liam almost swerved the car into the oncoming traffic.

“Try not to kill us,” Niall called from the backseat. Liam got the car back under control, though his knuckles were white on the wheel.

“I don’t need your approval,” he said through clenched teeth.

“So you do want to date him then,” Louis said. “Good. He’ll be glad to hear that.”

“Louis, I – don’t you dare – wait what?” Liam turned to look at Louis. “Did he say something to you?”

“Denying to infatuated in zero point six seconds,” Louis said with a grin. “Now keep your eyes on the road.”

Liam obediently turned to face forward, but he didn’t drop the subject. “So did he say something to you?”

“No,” Louis said. “But he was looking at you practically all night.”

“He was probably staring at my hair again,” Liam said, grimacing. “Oh God, that was so embarrassing. Why didn’t you tell me it was still a mess?”

“You’re the one who stomped away mid-styling,” Louis pointed out, and Liam couldn’t very well argue with that, seeing as it was the truth. Not that that would necessarily have stopped Louis.

“He also laughed at your joke,” Niall added.

“Maybe he just thought it was funny,” Liam said. Louis looked at him.

“It was terrible,” he said. “I mean, thunderpants? Really?”

“It was pretty bad,” Niall agreed.

“ _And_ he thought your spoon-phobia was ‘quirky,’” Louis added.

“Not everyone uses ‘quirky’ to mean ‘I have a crush on you,’” Liam said. “That’s just you.” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Do you want him to like you or not?” he asked. “Because you are shooting down every single perfectly reasonable piece of evidence we’ve presented you with.”

“I’m not an optimist like you two,” Liam said. “I’m a realist.”

“You’re a pessimist.”

“You say potato.”

Louis and Niall exchanged an exasperated look. It was one thing to believe a crush was unrequited when there was no evidence either way, but when there was? It just didn’t make sense to them. But that was Liam, and if he wanted to mope and whinge instead of actually getting some, who were they to deny him? At least until he got really annoying.

~*~*~

The five of them hanging out after work quickly became an almost daily routine. Sometimes it was only for a little while, if one of them had plans. Other times they had dinner together. Sometimes they went to Zayn’s (Harry’s trailer was smaller, he explained when Louis commented on it). Other times they just wandered around the fairgrounds. Still other times they left the fairgrounds and went into town, or the movies, or the park.

A little over a week after the first time they hung out, Liam asked about Harry’s job.

“You already know I tell fortunes, as ‘Hanzi the All-Knowing,’” Harry said, making air quotes around the stage name. “I mix a little bit of guesswork with a little bit of what they want to hear, and voila! A satisfied customer.”

“What does that mean?” Liam asked. Zayn, sitting beside him, grinned.

“Why don’t you give him a demonstration?”

“I am not your puppet, to dance for your and your friends’ amusement,” Harry complained, not sounding the least bit annoyed.

“ _His_ friends?” Louis asked, from his spot lying on the sofa (couch seemed too unsophisticated a name for so elegant a piece of furniture). “We’re not your friends as well?” 

Harry sighed, the tail end of it turning into a chuckle. “All right,” he said. “I know when I’m beaten. Do you want to go first, Liam?”

“Sure,” Liam said. “What do I do?”

Harry motioned for him to sit in the chair on the other side of the kitchen table. Once Liam was comfortably seated, Harry picked up his hand and stared at it intently.

“I see a lot more poo in your future,” Harry said after a moment, and Liam groaned. “Not all of it will be elephant, though,” Harry continued. 

Now Liam frowned. “After this summer, I’m planning to never come into contact with poo other than my own again,” he said. “How do you figure?”

“It’s human,” Harry said, dropping Liam’s hand. “Spending time with young children tends to have that effect. Next!”

Liam gaped at him. “How did you know I want to work with children?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Harry said mysteriously, but Louis noticed his eyes flick momentarily to Zayn, and he almost laughed. “Who’s next? Niall?”

“Nah,” Niall said from the other side of the trailer. “If my future doesn’t hold beer, food, and girls, I don’t want to know about it.” He lifted his bottle in a toast and took another swig. Harry laughed and turned to Louis.

“That leaves just you then, Louis.”

Louis willingly took the seat opposite Harry and extended his hand. Harry’s fingers were warm as he took Louis’ hand, but Louis still had to supress a shiver. He couldn’t tell if Harry noticed. Harry studied his hand for a long time, much longer than he’d spent on Liam’s. Louis couldn’t say he minded, especially since he spent the time staring just as intently at Harry’s hands.

“Interesting,” Harry said at last. “Very interesting.”

Louis blinked. “What does that mean?”

“I wonder what the cards would have to say,” Harry continued, not answering the question. He released Louis’ hand, and Louis had to resist the urge to grab Harry’s hand right back.

“Okay,” Louis said instead. “But where are you-” He stopped speaking, because Harry had just produced a deck of cards seemingly from nowhere. There certainly couldn’t have been space in those sinfully tight jeans, especially not if he was able to remove them that quickly. Louis shook his head, trying to derail that train of thought.

“Pick three cards,” Harry instructed him, fanning out the deck in a single smooth motion. Louis glanced at him, then down at the cards.

“Okay…” He pulled three cards from the deck. “Now what?”

“Turn them over,” Harry prodded. Louis obeyed, flipping them onto the table one by one: The ten of hearts. The eight of hearts. And the queen of hearts.

“Very interesting indeed,” Harry said, a little smile playing across his lips. Louis’ heart was beating just a little too fast, but he was also getting annoyed.

“Well, what does it mean, O Great One?” he asked. Harry looked up at him, that smug smile still on his face.

“Isn’t obvious?” he said. “What do you think it means?”

“I think that asking me what I think it means is cheating your way out,” Louis replied tartly. Harry laughed.

“Fair enough.” He swept up the cards, shuffled them deftly and then put them away, Louis still had no idea where.

“You’re still not giving me a straight answer,” Louis complained. Harry chuckled.

“I should hope not,” he said. “Where would be the fun in that? Straight answers are boring.” Louis couldn’t tell if he was imagining the slight emphasis on the word ‘straight.’ “Suffice to say,” Harry continued, “I think you’re going to have a good summer.” He winked at Louis and then walked away to grab another beer, leaving Louis feeling flustered, breathless, and very, very confused.

~*~*~

The next Monday Zayn was busy – one of the elephants had gotten tangled in one of the acrobats’ safety nets, and had cuts all over his trunk and foreleg. Zayn had, according to Niall, given the worker who’d left it out a tongue-lashing so severe that he’d nearly cried. Also Niall had learned three new curse words. Louis wasn’t sure which was more surprising, that the usually placid Zayn had gone off like that or that there were any curse words Niall didn’t know. In any case, there would be no hanging out that day.

But after about ten minutes of waiting for Liam, Louis got bored.

“I’m going to go find him,” he told Niall. Niall shrugged, barely looking up from his phone where he was texting someone who he’d given the contact name “HotLegs McRedHead.” Louis rolled his eyes and headed for the animal tents.

When he got there he quickly realized that it was huge (a side effect of having half a dozen kinds of performing animals and a small petting zoo) and he had no idea where anything was. So instead of asking around or even looking for a sign, he decided to take the logical route and guess randomly. And thus was it that instead of ending up at the elephant enclosures or the showers, he found himself wandering through lion territory.

They made him nervous, he couldn’t deny it. Louis was not afraid of much, but lions made the list. They were huge, their teeth were enormous, and they could run twice as fast as he could. Never mind that they were mostly lying on the ground barely reacting to his presence, they could have swallowed him in one bite if they decided to. Okay, that was probably unlikely given things like the fence and physics, but the point stood. Louis walked as far away from them as he could get. He was about halfway down the enclosure when he noticed someone approaching from the opposite direction. It was Harry.

“Oh, hey Louis,” Harry said when he spotted him. “What are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same question,” Louis said. “Don’t you work in a completely different part of the fairgrounds?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “but Zayn works here, so I spend plenty of time here too. I came to visit the lions.”

Louis’ jaw dropped. “The – the lions?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “They’re really sweet.”

“Are we talking about the same animal?” Louis asked. “Huge, yellow, eats dead flesh and could make you into it with a single bite?” 

Harry blinked. “These guys?” he said. “Never. They’re absolute pussycats. Look.” He approached the lion enclosure and stuck his hand through the bars, calling, “Here kitty!” Several of the big cats looked in his direction, and one of the smaller females stood up and padded over. “Good girl,” Harry said, rubbing her head. “Who’s a pretty girl?” The female appeared to be convinced that she was. Either that or she didn’t care as long as Harry kept scratching her behind the ears.

Louis was flabbergasted. He supposed it made sense for the lions to be at least partially tame if they were interacting with performers in front of a live audience, where either performer or audience could become lunch, but he was still stunned. After a few seconds Harry turned to Louis.

“Do you want to scratch her?”

“No thanks,” Louis said quickly. “I like my hands where they are, thank you very much.” 

Harry laughed. “It’s perfectly safe.”

“So is staying right here,” Louis pointed out. 

Harry shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He paused. “What did you say you were doing in this section?”

“I didn’t,” Louis said, “but I’m looking for Liam. He’s being slow, and I bore easily.” 

Harry tilted his head to the side. “You know you’re in the wrong area, right?” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “No, Harry, I thought Liam showered with the lions. They love water, after all, like all cats.”

“Some big cats do like water,” Harry pointed out. “Tigers, mainly.”

“But lions don’t?”

“Not usually.”

“Then I was right. Don’t correct me.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “Come on, I’ll take you to the showers.”

“So if you’re so friendly with the lions, why are you the fortune teller?” Louis asked as they set off. 

Harry shrugged. “The animal workers need a lot more training, for one thing,” he said. “Plus the fortune telling is more fun.”

“I would certainly prefer fortune telling to working with those monsters,” Louis said. Harry gasped, stopping to give him a look of horror, and Louis couldn’t quite tell if he was serious or not.

“Don’t call them that! You’ll hurt their feelings!”

Louis cocked an eyebrow. “We’re a hundred metres away and they don’t speak English.”

“Do you really want to risk annoying them?” Harry asked, and that at least Louis was pretty sure was a joke.

“I do not,” he agreed. “They are magnificent beasts. Just terrifying.”

“I’m not sure how you’d fare as a fortune teller,” Harry said as they moved off. 

Louis shrugged. “I’m not that attached to the role,” he said. “I’d rather be an acrobat anyway.”

“Really?” Harry said. “Now that’s scary.”

“Oh come on,” Louis said. “They have so many safety measures in place. Not like a lion, where all that stands between you and its teeth are its lips.”

“Sometimes not even that,” Harry said, and Louis shuddered. “But I’m not really equipped for anything requiring coordination, and acrobatics certainly does.”

“Well I am,” Louis said. He fell forwards, turned two somersaults and came up into a handstand. 

Harry clapped. “Bravo!” 

Louis fell backwards into a bridge and pushed himself to his feet, whereupon he turned and bowed dramatically. “Thank you, thank you!” 

Harry laughed. “Some people have all the luck,” he said. “You’re funny _and_ athletic, and I can’t even do a cartwheel.”

“Really?” Louis said. “But cartwheels are easy. See?” He deftly turned one, but as he landed he felt his left foot slip out from under him. Apparently whoever had left the safety net out hadn’t been the only negligent worker, as a metal food dish lay in the path, and Louis had landed solidly on top of it. He flailed for a moment, then went down, landing hard on the sandy ground.

“I thought you said cartwheels were easy,” Harry said, laughing. Louis just grunted, the wind having been knocked out of him by the landing. After a moment, Harry stopped laughing. “Louis? Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” Louis said, making no effort to get up. His voice was thin. Harry was at his side in an instant.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Harry’s hands fluttered uncertainly over him. “What’s wrong? Do you need help? Oh shit Louis, I didn’t mean to laugh-”

“Calm down,” Louis interjected. “I’m not dying.”

“Good,” Harry said, and then coloured. “I mean, not good – well, it’s good, but it’s not like I thought-”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not calming down.”

“Sorry, I didn’t – sorry.”

There was a moment of quiet and Louis mentally checked himself over. He’d hit the ground hard, but thankfully the sand had cushioned the worst of the damage. His breathing was back to normal, and the only other damage he could feel was a light throbbing in his head and a larger one in his ankle. He slowly sat up with a groan and a grimace. Harry was immediately there to help, one hand supporting his back. Louis considered telling him that he can take care of himself, he’s not a bloody invalid or anything, but it felt nice, so he let it be.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“That’s the third time you’ve asked that,” Louis noted.

“You haven’t answered yet,” Harry replied, which, well, fair enough.

“I think I’m okay,” he said. “Head aches a bit, and the ankle, but I’ll manage.”

“Good.” There was a pause. “Do you want to get up now?”

“No, the floor is fine, I’ll just stay here,” Louis said. Harry looked uncertain. “That was a joke.”

“Oh.”

“Not a bad idea, though,” Louis added thoughtfully. “I mean, I can’t fall over if I’m on the ground.”

“Louis?”

“Yes?”

“Are you getting up or not?”

“Don’t rush me,” Louis complained, but he was smiling. At least, he was smiling until he tried to move his ankle, which immediately reported back that no, it did not like that _at all_. He winced, but bullied it into cooperating as he got to his knees and stood. “So far so good,” he muttered, and tested it, putting the tiniest amount of weight on it.

Nope.

He pulled his foot back up so fast he almost lost his balance, which would have sucked. Thankfully Harry caught him before he fell.

“Hi,” Louis said.

“Hi,” Harry agreed.

“You can let go of me now.”

“I think you’ll fall over. How’s the ankle?”

“Terrible.”

It was a bizarre conversation, Louis couldn’t help but notice, in the (very small) part of his brain that wasn’t focused on the fact that Harry’s arm was pressed up against his back.

“So now what?” he asked.

“Um,” Harry chewed his bottom lip uncertainly. “I dunno. I have some stuff at my place; I could take a look and patch you up. If you like.” Louis shrugged.

“I don’t have any better ideas,” he said. “Take me to your medical supplies!”

~*~*~

“This isn’t exactly how I pictured your first visit to my place,” Harry muttered as he helped Louis up the three rickety steps to the trailer.

“You pictured it?” Louis said, wincing. “How nice.”

“I didn’t – I don’t-” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head and pushing open the door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

The inside of the trailer was cramped but homey, almost the exact opposite of Zayn’s. Much of the space was taken up by a large couch patterned with a faded floral design. A small kitchenette ran along the opposite side of the trailer, the small cupboards liberally covered with photos.

“Did you take these?” Louis asked, momentarily forgetting his injury. The photos were widely varied – shots of the circus, of flowers, of animals, of people – but all beautifully framed and arranged.

“Most of them,” Harry said, scratching his neck uncomfortably. “Not the ones with me in them, obviously-” he pointed to a cluster of pictures in one corner – “but most of the others, yeah.” Louis moved closer to the pictures Harry had indicated, which showed Harry with various people, always smiling broadly at the camera. Two women showed up more often than any of the other people, and Louis touched one of the photos gently.

“Your mother?” he asked. He was fairly certain of that guess – he could see elements of Harry in her eyes and her smile – but he was less sure of the other woman. Was she a girlfriend or…

“And my sister, yeah,” Harry said and Louis exhaled.

“Do you miss them?”

“Sometimes,” Harry said, an odd expression on his face. “Gemma, definitely. And… I miss my mother, but… I can’t go back.”

Louis opened his mouth to ask why, but checked himself. Harry looked wistful, almost vulnerable. Louis didn’t understand it, but he suspected that Harry wouldn’t tell him if he asked. After a moment Harry shook his head as if clearing it.

“But enough about me,” he said with a crooked smile. “Let me take a look at that ankle.” 

Louis had quite forgotten about that, but now that he was reminded, his ankle seemed to be throbbing twice as painfully, as if to make up for lost time. He quickly sat down on the couch as Harry rifled through a cupboard, pulling out bandages and painkillers. Louis moved to take off his shoe but Harry abruptly held up a hand.

“Don’t touch it,” he said. Louis looked up at Harry, who was still facing the cupboards, and frowned.

“How did you-”

“I am Hanzi the All-Knowing,” Harry intoned. “I see all.” Louis laughed. Harry turned, holding his fortune teller face just a moment longer before breaking into a grin. “Seriously, though,” he said. “Let me. I have… a lot of experience.”

“And you think I don’t?” Louis asked. “Mate, I’ve been playing football since I learned to walk.”

“And yet you still managed to injure yourself doing a cartwheel,” Harry pointed out. His tone was mild, but Louis drew himself up to his (admittedly not that impressive) (especially since he was sitting down) full height.

“Are you implying that-”

“I’m implying that you should let me take care of you.” There was a pause. “It.” Another, longer pause.

“Well, go ahead then,” Louis said at last. Harry hesitated a moment longer, then knelt beside the couch and took Louis’ ankle in his hands. Louis tried not to flinch, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t very successful because Harry immediately stopped and tossed him a bottle. Louis caught it and looked at it uncertainly. He didn’t recognize the label.

“Take two of those for the pain,” Harry said. “They work fast, so they’re useful for this sort of thing.” Louis obeyed, dry swallowing two pills. Harry waited until he had finished to go back to work on Louis’ foot. He handled it with the utmost gentleness, but Louis still couldn’t hold back a hiss of pain as Harry removed his shoe.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Louis focused on that as Harry finished taking off the shoe, and then peeled off his sock. The cool air felt good against his skin, and he procrastinated just a moment before looking down to see the damage.

It wasn’t good. Louis’ ankle was already definitively swelling. Bruising was only faintly visible so far, but it was evident that it would soon be quite colourful.

“This is going to be fun to stand on all day, isn’t it,” Louis commented. His face was damp with sweat. Harry winced in sympathy.

“Maybe you could switch positions,” he suggested.

“Would the big bosses let me?” Louis asked. 

Harry shrugged. “No idea. Seems worth a shot, though, doesn’t it? Especially if you can find someone who’s willing to switch.”

Louis looked thoughtful. “Well, Niall’s on ticket booth,” he said, then paused. “At least, I think he is. That’s what he was assigned. He never seems to do anything, though. And I’m not sure he can be trusted to mind his tongue around children.”

Harry shrugged again. “Can’t hurt to ask.” He probed Louis’ ankle gently, and it was all Louis could do not to gasp and kick him in the face. “Sorry,” Harry said, and did it again.

“Are you trying to kill me through me foot?” Louis asked, panting. “Because I’d really prefer you did it quicker.”

“I think it’s just a sprain,” Harry said, reaching for the ace bandages on the floor beside him. “One of the worse I’ve seen, but probably no more than that. You should probably get it looked at by a doctor, though.”

“Why, aren’t you the expert on self-inflicted injuries?” Harry rolled his eyes and pulled the bandage he was wrapping around Louis’ foot a little tighter. “Hey, try not to cut off the circulation!”

“Your circulation is fine,” Harry said, his voice suddenly clipped. Louis was confused.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked uncertainly. Harry said nothing. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” Louis said, trying to think where he might have gone wrong. “Humour is just kind of a reflex for me. I didn’t mean to upset you.” There was a momentary silence, then Harry sighed.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just… touchy sometimes.” He stood and opened a cupboard beside the sink. After a few moments of rustling, Louis heard the distinctive sound of a lighter. He grimaced – he wasn’t a fan of cigarettes, the smoke irritated his eyes, but he wasn’t going to risk annoying Harry again by complaining. He was a little surprised, though – he never would have pegged Harry for a smoker. He seemed more the type for tai-chi, or expensive Greek yogurt, or-

Harry turned around and Louis blinked. Or scented candles. Okay then. Yeah, that actually made a lot more sense.

“I hope you don’t mind?” Harry said, carefully setting the candle on the counter. “It, like, helps me relax?”

“Be my guest,” Louis said quickly. “Well, I suppose I’m actually your guest right now.” A smile flickered across Harry’s face.

“Goof.”

“You know it,” Louis said, grinning just a little too widely for it to be entirely normal, but he didn’t really care just now, not when the gentle scent of vanilla was slowly building in the air and Harry was smiling affectionately at him. The moment lasted for several seconds before Harry coughed and turned away. He pulled an instant cold pack out of the cupboards and popped it, shaking it slightly to get the reaction going.

“How’s it feel?” he asked, pressing the cold pack against Louis’ tightly wrapped ankle.

“Better,” Louis said, and it was true. He could still feel the injury, but the pain was muted, almost distant. “Thanks, Doctor Styles.” Harry smiled again, loosely securing the pack with another ace bandage before moving up the couch.

“How’s your head?” he asked, gently feeling the back of Louis’ skull. Louis was about to roll his eyes and tell him that he was worrying too much, but as he felt Harry’s long fingers carding through his hair he decided that maybe that was okay.

“’s fine, Harry,”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. He didn’t remove his hand. Now Louis wasn’t sure who was bluffing who. Maybe they both were.

“The ground is fairly soft on purpose,” Louis said. “There’s probably a nice big crater where I landed.”

“If you’re certain…” Harry said. “Do you need anything else?” His eyes were big and soft and concerned and Louis wanted to gaze into them forever. Maybe it was the painkillers, or the candle scent, but at that moment something gave Louis courage.

“Just you.”

Harry’s eyes widened, and Louis’ temporary courage evaporated. Shit. Had he fucked this up? Probably. That would be just his luck. “Sorry,” he said quickly, shutting his eyes. “Don’t know where that came from. Must be the drugs. I’m not-”

“Louis.” He stopped talking at the sound of Harry’s deep voice. “Look at me,” Harry’s voice said. Louis slowly obeyed, and almost gasped when he found Harry’s face even closer to his. His arms floated up on instinct, and his hands settled lightly on Harry’s biceps. Harry shivered, and drew in a long breath. Now it was Louis whose eyes widened in surprise.

“Is this…” He trailed off, staring at Harry’s eyes. They were normally so green, but now his pupils were so dilated the iris was barely visible. Louis made his choice. In one quick, decisive movement he slid his hand up to hook behind Harry’s neck. At the same moment he leaned up and connected their lips.

Louis had kissed his fair share of people before. Some of the kisses had been sweet and tender. Some had been messy and rough. Some had been long, some short, some good, some bad, but none of them had been quite like this.

This kiss was fiery but gentle; passionate but soft. It was the best parts of every kiss he’d ever had made a hundred times better, and then with a little added something that was all new – all Harry.

“That’s more like what I imagined,” Harry breathed when they finally moved apart. Louis didn’t open his eyes, just pressed his forehead against Harry’s, running his fingers lightly along Harry’s cheeks as he breathed.

“What do you mean?” he asked. He felt Harry’s face move under his hands, and opened his eyes to see Harry biting his lip nervously, which was so hot Louis had to kiss him again.

“This is how I imagined bringing you home,” Harry said after a minute. Louis’ eyes widened. Then he glared.

“And you let me make the first move?”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“You had me second guessing myself all week,” Louis said, “and now you tell me that the whole time you were fantasizing about taking me home and seducing me?”

“I wasn’t – I didn’t – seducing you?”

“What else would you call it?”

“You kissed me?” Harry pointed out, and okay, Louis had to admit he had a point.

“That is an interesting point,” he said. “All right, perhaps we can come to some agreement on this matter.”

“What did you have in mind?”

A smile was threatening to burst across Harry’s face. Louis wanted to see it bloom into being. He pretended to think for a moment.

“I will forgive your… transgressions,” he said, struggling to keep his own smile in check. “If you keep kissing me.”

And there was the smile. It was so bright Louis would have sworn it could power a small town.

“I think that could be arranged.”

Their lips had just barely brushed when the door abruptly banged open, and a loud, Irish voice yelled “Louis? You in here?” Harry and Louis sprang apart.

“You don’t have to yell,” Louis said, a touch petulantly. “There is nowhere in this place I could possibly be out of earshot.” Niall just looked between the two of them and grinned.

“I fucking called it. You owe me ten quid.”

“I absolutely do not,” Louis said, sitting up straighter. “There was no bet in place-”

“Because you knew I’d win.”

“Because that would be disgusting and creepy,” Louis continued, raising his voice. “And the only other possibility would be that I was paying you for your ‘services’ as ‘matchmaker’-” he made air quotes around the words “-which I absolutely did not need or even want. Pay for your own goddamn beer.”

Harry looked like he was torn between amusement and confusion. Niall, on the other hand, merely shrugged.

“Worth a try,” he said. “By the way, Liam’s ready to go.” He paused a moment. “Assuming you’re coming with us, I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis said, sighing. “I’m coming.” He started to get to his feet and winced.

“Do you need help?” Harry asked. Louis made a face.

“It would appear that the answer is yes,” he said. Harry continued to look amused and confused (which rhymed, Louis noticed) as he helped Louis onto his feet, supporting him on his bad side.

“What happened to you?” Niall asked incredulously.

“Sprained ankle,” Harry said. “He was-”

“Injured in the line of duty,” Louis interrupted quickly. Niall gave him a sceptical look, then turned to Harry.

“He was trying to show off, wasn’t he.”

“Maybe?” Harry said, and Louis rolled his eyes.

“Thank you for defending my honour, you upstanding citizen you,” he said. 

Harry shrugged. “So where are we going?” he asked. Louis pointed.

“To the car park, my ignoble knight.”

~*~*~

Niall was on cloud nine all week. Louis pointed out that this was incredibly creepy, given that he wasn’t the one in the relationship, to which Niall declared he was living vicariously. Louis couldn’t be bothered to argue, especially since Niall willingly agreed to surrender his place in the ticket booth to Louis while his ankle healed.

If Niall was ecstatic (and he was), Liam was the opposite. He moped, definitively jealous though he tried not to show it. Louis and Niall told him time and time again to just grow a pair and tell Zayn, but Liam insisted that they were just friends and nothing more. Zayn didn’t want more, and he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. Louis still thought he was being ridiculous, but nothing he or Niall said seemed to make a difference.

Things didn’t change much for the rest of the week. They kissed, sure, and there were little glances and little touches that made Louis’ heart beat faster, but it was still the same even as it was different. When Louis went home for the weekend – two whole days of not seeing each other, Niall exclaimed as dramatically as he could – they exchanged phone numbers. Louis didn’t want to be the first one to text, so he waited, but by Saturday afternoon he was losing willpower. Finally he picked up his phone to send a message but before he’d typed more than a few letters the phone vibrated in his hands. He nearly dropped it on his face, catching it just in time.

 _Doing anything interesting?_ he read on the tiny screen.

_Nah, bored. You?_

_Same._

_Miss me? ;)_

_Yeah._

Louis couldn’t help being surprised at that. Not that Harry missed him – that was mutual, he supposed – but that Harry was so willing to admit it. It was different from the usual. Refreshingly so.

 _I miss you too,_ he typed, only hesitating for a second before sending it. That was different too. Louis was turning into a romantic and it was all Harry’s fault. It hadn’t even been a week, but here they were talking about their feelings and all that. Louis loved it.

They barely stopped texting for the rest of the weekend, staying up late and bickering about who got to have the last word. His sisters noticed and started asking questions, and squealed with excitement when he told them.

“Is he pretty?” Phoebe wanted to know.

“The prettiest,” he’d told her. Her eyes widened.

“Prettier than Cinderella?”

“About the same,” Louis said after a moment’s thought. 

Daisy giggled. “Phoebe, boys can’t be Cinderella,” she said. “They’re Prince Charmings.”

“Boys can totally be Cinderellas,” Louis retorted. “But Harry’s more like Jasmine, really.” (When Louis texted Harry this, Harry wholeheartedly agreed, and informed him that was in fact the result he’d gotten on an online personality quiz.)

This led to an entirely new string of questions, which Louis was happy to answer to the best of his ability, right up until –

“When do we get to meet him?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, stalling. He should have expected this, he realized, but he really hadn’t. “Soon,” he told them when they pressed him further. They still weren’t satisfied. “I can’t see the future,” he told them. “That’s his job.”

“Then ask him,” Fizzy had suggested. He’d laughed and told her he would. But he didn’t. He wasn’t sure why; all he knew was that he’d never told anyone he missed them after knowing them less than a month and this was moving so fast and he didn’t know whether he was excited or terrified. Maybe he was both.

~*~*~

Louis didn’t see Harry during the day on Monday – Liam’s car had engine trouble, and they were very nearly late; and then they had lunch at different times – so when Harry was waiting outside the ticket booth when he exited, his heart practically sang. Not that Louis’ heart ever did that sort of thing, obviously. He’d said practically sang. It didn’t really sing.

Except maybe it did, because Harry gave him that grin that was just a little wider than normal, and a moment later he had Harry's arms wrapped tightly around him and his face buried in Harry's shirt. He smelled good; clean and musky with just a hint of flowers and a slightly stronger hint of vanilla. He smelled like Harry.

“I missed you,” Louis said when he pulled back, and wow, if saying it at all was weird, saying it first was even weirder. But it was true, and when Harry’s smile widened even more, he was glad he’d said it.

“I missed you too,” Harry said. Louis trailed his hands down Harry’s back until they settled on his hips, thumbs pressing into the hollows just above the bone. Harry shivered, and Louis laughed.

“I can tell,” he said. He started to rise onto his toes to kiss Harry, but Harry got there first. Louis almost gasped as Harry pulled their bodies flush against each other. That evidently wasn’t close enough, because a moment later he pressed Louis against the wall of the ticket booth. Louis gripped Harry’s shirt in both hands and their breathless laughter mixed between kisses.

“Do you mind?”

The loud voice cut through the air and Louis pulled away from Harry. A middle aged man was glaring at them from a few feet away. A little girl of perhaps five stood behind him, and the man seemed to be trying to block her view.

“Got a problem?” Louis asked, his placid voice a stark contrast to his messy hair and swollen lips.

“Yeah, I got a problem,” the man said. “I came here to have a good time, not to see faggots like you shoving your disgusting lifestyle choices in my face. There are children here, for fuck’s sake.”

“Exactly why is the sight of me kissing my boyfriend more inappropriate for your child than the word fuck?” Louis asked, because if this guy was going to have a problem, well then he was more than willing to have a problem right back. He stepped forward, but Harry grabbed his shoulder.

“Let me,” he said. He turned to face the man, but to Louis’ surprise he instead addressed the little girl. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Don’t answer that, Angie,” the man said, and Louis bit back a grin at the stupidity of that statement.

“Angie?” Harry said, and the little girl nodded. “It’s very nice to meet you, Angie.” He crouched down to her level. “Now Angie, I have a question for you, okay?” Angie nodded again. The man looked ready to explode. “What do you think when you look at us?” Harry asked.

Angie seemed to take this question very seriously. She walked a bit closer, though her father stopped her before she could get too close. She studied them for a few seconds, and Louis felt oddly like she was assessing them, and he wanted to pass. At last, she said, “You look happy.”

Harry laughed at that, threw back his head and really laughed. “We are happy,” he told her. “That’s why they call people like us ‘gay.’”

“All right, Angie, that’s enough,” the man said. “We’re going home.” He took Angie by the hand and led her away at a fast pace.

“Goodbye, Angie,” Harry called, standing. She looked over her shoulder and waved, grinning happily at him. A moment later they turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

The moment they were gone, Harry seemed to crumple, just a bit. Louis hesitated for a second before walking up to him and wrapping him tightly in his arms. Harry melted into the contact, burying his face in Louis’ shirt and breathing him in.

“That was amazing,” Louis whispered in Harry’s ear. “I could never have kept my cool like that. Well, you saw me. I was going to go completely off on his arse but you…” He trailed off. “How do you do it?”

It was a mostly rhetorical question, so he was surprised when Harry muttered something. It was muffled, though; he couldn’t make out words. “What was that, babe?” he said. Harry lifted his head from Louis’ shoulder and his eyes were damp. Louis’ breath caught in his throat.

“I can do it,” Harry said, “because I’ve spent so much time thinking about what I wish I’d said to my mum.”

It took Louis a moment to process Harry’s words, but when he did he felt like he had been punched in the chest. His own mother had… what? He didn’t know, but he knew Harry didn’t deserve it. Harry deserved the best in everything. The thought that he had been rejected by someone who was supposed to support him unconditionally broke Louis’ heart. He didn’t know what to do. So for the moment, he settled for pulling Harry even tighter to him.

“Do you want to come to dinner at mine?” he asked after a long minute. Harry looked up, a little confused. It was a weird segue, Louis realized. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said quickly. “Just… I want you to meet someone.” He paused. “And I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Harry said hesitantly, but Louis shook his head.

“You wouldn’t be, I promise,” he said. “I want you to. If you want to.”

“If you’re sure,” Harry said at last. Louis took his face in both hands, looking him in the eye.

“Harry Edward Styles, I am absolutely certain that you will not be a bother,” he said. He waited until Harry nodded before kissing him. “You are amazing,” he whispered against Harry’s lips. “You deserve to know that. Anyone who thinks differently is a fool.” Harry said nothing, but his hands dug just a little bit deeper into Louis’ sides as they kissed, alone and uninterrupted in the middle of an empty fairground.

~*~*~

Liam didn't say a word when Louis showed up at the car with Harry in tow, for which Louis was grateful. Niall gleefully claimed the front seat, which startled a smile out of Harry, but he was still a bit subdued. Louis kept up his usual chatter with Liam and Niall, but didn’t let go of Harry’s hand for a second the entire car ride, occasionally squeezing gently or running his thumb over the back of it to say, I’m here, I see you.

When they got out of the car, Harry stood nervously at the foot of the drive for a long minute. Louis began to wonder if this had been a mistake.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” he asked.

Harry looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“My sisters are a little… excitable,” Louis explained. “They might swarm you.”

As if to prove his point, at that moment the front door burst open and three girls came tumbling down the steps.

“We heard the car pull up _ages_ ago.”

“Why haven’t you come in yet?”

“Who’s this?”

“This is Harry,” Louis said, raising his voice to be heard above the din. “He’s-”

“Harry from the circus?”

“Your _boyfriend?_ ”

“Girls, let him breathe,” Louis said, but when he looked at Harry he realized he was smiling.

“Let them be,” Harry said to Louis before turning to the girls. “It’s technically a carnival,” he told them. “But yes, I’m that Harry.”

“What do you do at the carvinal?” Daisy asked. Harry ruffled her hair, and she let him, to Louis’ surprise. Daisy didn’t usually like people messing up her hair.

“I tell fortunes,” he told them. Daisy’s brow wrinkled in confusion at that, so he explained. “I tell people what’s going to happen to them in the future.”

“Can you tell my fortune?” Phoebe asked excitedly.

“And mine!”

“And mine!”

“I can tell all of your fortunes,” he said, kneeling on the ground. “Who’s first?”

He was promptly more or less buried in a chorus of “Me! Me! Me!” Louis chuckled, regarding him fondly. He really did have a knack with kids.

“Good choice, brother,” said a voice from behind him. Louis spun around to see Lottie standing on the porch, looking down on the chaos below.

“Thanks?” he said. “I think.” He mounted the steps and stood beside her, leaning on the railing to watch the proceedings below.

“I meant it as a good thing,” she said. “I like him.”

“But you’re still too old to go racing pell-mell into the street to meet a stranger?” he teased. Lottie gave him a look. “I’m going to take that as a yes,” he said, and she sighed in exasperation.

“I’m _twelve_ , Louis,” she told him, like that explained everything.

“Fizzy is ten,” he pointed out. “She still does it.”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “Him, I like. You, I could do without. I’m going inside,” she added before he could be properly offended. “I’ll tell Mum you brought a stray.”

“I did text her,” Louis yelled as the door swung shut behind her. Lottie gave no response, and he shook his head before turning back to the lawn. Harry had the three girls seated in a semicircle before him and appeared to be reading Fizzy’s palm. Louis watched, a fond smile on his face.

“I haven’t seen you look at someone like that in a long time.”

Louis looked up to see his mother standing at the door. He fought to keep from blushing as he said, “Harry’s special, right enough.”

“I can tell.” This was ridiculous. Louis didn’t blush. He didn’t go all sappy over someone he’d only met a few weeks ago. It just wasn’t him! But as he stood on that porch watching Harry laughing with his sisters, he realized he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry looked up at Louis and smiled, almost as if he’d read Louis’ mind. Louis’ heart jumped as he smiled back. A moment later Harry said something to the girls and they leapt to their feet and raced over to the porch where Jay and Louis stood.

“Harry says I’m going to be a princess!” Phoebe told Louis excitedly.

“He said I’m going to travel all over the world,” Fizzy added.

Louis laughed. “You’re already a princess, Feebs,” he said. “How about you, Daisy? What does your future hold?”

“Dogs,” she told him seriously. 

It was all he could do to keep from laughing. He glanced at Harry, who shrugged slightly. “Dogs,” Louis repeated once he had himself under control. “Sounds like a good future to me.”

“It is,” she assured him.

“Okay.” Jay clapped her hands. “Now that Harry’s told all of your fortunes, how about you go set the table for dinner? We want it to be perfect for Harry, right?”

“Right!” The three girls turned almost as one to run inside leaving Harry, Louis, Jay alone on the porch.

“Mum, this is Harry,” Louis said, taking advantage of the presumably brief quiet.

“So I gathered,” she said, her eyes sparkling. Harry could see where Louis got it from. He held out a hand to shake.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tomlinson.”

“Please, call me Jay,” she said, laughing. “Mrs. Tomlinson sounds so old.” She ignored his hand in favour of pulling Harry into a hug. His eyes widened for a moment, but then he relaxed.

“You are old,” Louis teased, and she slapped him lightly.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” she scolded, releasing Harry. “I can still ground you. Or send you to bed without supper.”

“Could you?” Louis muttered, but Jay either didn’t hear him or pretended as much.

“Welcome to the family, Harry,” she said. “It’s a bit chaotic, but it’s ours.”

“I can do chaotic,” Harry said, smiling.

“Good thing,” Lottie said from the door, and everyone jumped slightly. “Otherwise Louis would have to find someone else. The table is ready, by the way,” she added. “A bit of a mess – that chaos thing again – but ready.”

“Anything broken?” Louis asked. Lottie shrugged.

“Nothing that can’t be put back together.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Jay said.

The moment they walked inside they were assailed with the delicious scent of garlic and cooking meat. Louis’ mouth began to water.

“What are we having?” he asked.

“Spaghetti and garlic bread,” Jay said, then paused, sniffing the air. “At least, I hope we’re still having garlic bread.” She was gone a moment later, hurrying towards the kitchen. Lottie had disappeared again, and Louis and Harry were alone for the first time since they’d been ambushed in the front yard.

“You were really good with the girls,” Louis commented to Harry, kicking off his shoes.

“I like kids,” Harry said with a shrug. A flicker of something passed over his face. “It’s why I talked to the kid instead of the dad back there.”

Louis pointed a warning finger at him. “I want you to keep smiling,” he said sternly. “Or I will sic the twins on you again.” That startled a laugh out of Harry, which of course had been the goal.

“I think I can manage that,” Harry said softly. There was a moment of quiet and Louis reached for Harry’s hand, twining their fingers together.

“I’ll help,” he offered, and Harry smiled.

“You’d better.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t suppress his grin as he rose up on his toes to kiss Harry.

“Eww!” Lottie was back. Harry started to pull away but Louis tugged him back.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. “She can deal.”

“Mum, Louis’ snogging Harry,” Lottie yelled.

“Good for him,” Jay called back. When Louis pulled back a few seconds later Lottie was giggling. Louis shook his head.

“That was hardly snogging,” he told Lottie. “Proper snogging involves a lot more tongue. This was pretty PG.”

“You put your tongue in his mouth?” Lottie asked. She'd stopped giggling and sounded mildly horrified.

“Not right now, weren’t you listening?” Louis said. “Other times, though, yeah.” He tried not to laugh at the look on her face. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo.”

“I think I can wait,” she said, blinking rapidly before walking out of the room. The moment she was gone, Louis doubled over with laughter.

“That’ll teach her,” he said. “Little squirt.” Harry’s eyes danced.

“You’re a menace,” he said. Louis feigned shock.

“Me?” he said. “Would you rather I’d stopped?”

Jay appeared from the kitchen before Harry came up with an answer.

“Dinner is ready, you two,” she called. “Wash your hands before you eat.”

“Yes, Mum,” Louis chirped. Jay ruffled his hair as he passed by.

“And try not to traumatize your sister.” He turned and grinned.

“No promises.”

~*~*~

Harry was quiet as Louis drove them back to the fairgrounds that night. Louis didn’t push. Jay had seen them off, telling Harry that he was “welcome in our home any time.” Louis could have kissed her, especially when he saw the smile that spread across Harry’s face.

“The person you wanted me to meet was your mum, wasn’t it?” Harry said as they pulled into the staff car park. Louis jumped slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, turning off the car. “I wanted you to see what it could be like. What it _should_ be like.” 

Harry nodded. “You’re lucky, you know.” There was no jealousy in his voice; it was just a simple statement of fact. “To have a mother like that.”

“I know,” Louis whispered. There was a sudden lump in his throat. 

Harry glanced at him and smiled crookedly. “Thanks for sharing.” 

Louis smiled at that, and the tightness in his chest eased a little. “My pleasure.”

They sat for a moment in the darkness, not saying anything. At last, Louis got out of the car, walking around just in time to open Harry’s door for him. Harry smiled up at him, his face illuminated only by the moon and stars but somehow still managing to glow. They walked in silence to Harry’s trailer, the only sound the scuff of their shoes on the dirt.

“Cuppa?” Harry offered when they reached the trailer. Louis smiled and nodded, and Harry plugged in the kettle. A few minutes later they both held steaming mugs of tea. Louis sipped his and sighed in satisfaction.

“I do love a good tea,” he said. Harry smiled faintly, but said nothing. They sat in silence, the only sound a quiet slurp from time to time. A few minutes later, Louis’ mug was empty and he stood to leave. Harry suddenly reached out, catching his arm.

“No, wait,” he said. “Stay.” 

Louis smiled at him. “I have to work tomorrow,” he said. “I need my beauty rest.”

“No,” Harry said again. “I mean – stay.” 

Louis blinked in surprise as he understood. “You want me to?”

“I mean – I’m – yes?” Harry stammered. “If it’s not too much of a bother.”

“It’s not,” Louis assured him, squeezing his shoulder. “But I don’t have my uniform for tomorrow.”

“So pick it up in the morning,” Harry suggested, his eyes bright. “Stay with me tonight.”

Louis stayed.

~*~*~

He woke early the next morning and drove home to pick up a few things. Jay was already up, and gave him a knowing smile. He blushed and shook his head.

“It’s not what you think,” he said. “We didn’t-”

“I don’t care,” Jay told him. “I trust you to be responsible. You’re a grown man.” 

Louis blinked, swallowing a lump in his throat as he realized again just how lucky he was. “Thanks,” he said eventually. 

Jay smiled. “Text me again if you stay over tonight.”

“I won’t-” Louis began, but Jay gave him a look, something between ‘I don’t believe you’ and ‘I don’t care’. “Okay,” he said after a minute. She reached out to squeeze his shoulder gently, and he hugged her on impulse. “Thanks,” he whispered again, his chin tucked over her shoulder.

She hugged him back, and he could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “He’s good for you, isn’t he?” 

He smiled too. “I sure think so.”

A minute later a horn from outside informed them that Liam was there to pick Louis up. Jay pulled back and pinched her son’s cheek.

“Go,” she said. “Give Harry my love. Remind him he’s welcome any time.” She chuckled. “It’ll be good to have another man about the house.”

“I’ll tell him,” Louis said, slipping on his shoes. The horn blared again and he threw open the door. “Coming!”

~*~*~

Louis didn’t wind up staying that night, but he did spend the next. They texted the entire weekend again, and Jay only scolded him lightly when she caught him with his phone out at the dinner table.

Niall teased them mercilessly at every opportunity, but Louis just flipped him off. Zayn watched them with an affectionate smile, occasionally glancing at Liam. Louis noted this, but didn’t comment. And Liam… Liam still tried not to show it, but every time he looked at them it was with a wistful expression that was half happiness but half pain. He was too quiet, not that he’d been loud before, but he’d never been like _this_. He only really smiled with Zayn, and even then it faded too quickly. Louis was beginning to worry.

At last, he decided to take matters into his own hands. They were sitting in Zayn’s trailer after work, Harry lying on the sofa, his head in Louis’ lap as Louis played with his hair. Liam leaned against the sofa next to Louis and Niall was sprawled on the floor. Zayn had just left to go to the bathroom.

“So,” Louis said casually to Harry. “Is Zayn’s lovesick moaning driving you as crazy as Liam’s is driving me?” 

Louis could feel Liam stiffen at his side. Harry groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “God, yes,” Harry said. “He just will not shut up about Liam.” 

There was a pause. Liam’s face switched from angry to hurt to confused to shocked in a matter of seconds. Niall smirked from the floor. “Your face is a picture, Liam."

Harry removed his arm from his face. “Wait, I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I?”

“It’s okay, Harry,” Louis said, patting his head. “We forgive you. Because guess what? It’s mutual.”

“Zayn talks about me?” Liam said timidly, and for pity’s sake it was not right for a human being to look so much like a puppy.

“Zayn talks about you,” Harry confirmed.

“And Liam talks about Zayn,” Niall added.

“And therefore both of you should get your heads out of the sand and grow a pair,” Louis concluded. There was a momentary silence, and then the bathroom door opened and everyone turned to look at Zayn. He glanced around.

“Why is everyone staring at me?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Louis quipped. Everyone laughed, except Liam, who was still staring at Zayn. The laughter petered out awkwardly after a minute, and Louis pushed himself to his feet.

“Hey Harry, didn’t you promise to give me a tour of your fortune telling establishment?”

“I did?” Harry looked confused for a moment, before understanding flashed across his face. “Oh yeah, that’s right,” he said sitting up. “Do you want to do that now?”

“It’s as good a time as any,” Louis said. “Niall, you in?”

“Sure,” Niall said, getting to his feet. “So long as I get to try on his headscarves.”

“Do you want to go too, Li?” Zayn asked. Louis opened his mouth, searching for an excuse why Liam shouldn’t come, but Liam beat him to the punch.

“No, I’m good,” he said. “It’s been a long day. I’d rather just stay here. If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s fine,” Zayn said, and Louis clapped Liam on the back.

“See you later then, mate.” Liam looked nervous as hell, but he smiled anyway. Louis ruffled his hair gently, then turned to Harry and Niall. “Let’s move out.”

Louis was last out the door, and before he closed it behind him he shot Liam a covert thumbs-up. Liam nodded imperceptibly. Louis shut the door and jumped over the steps to the ground, flinging himself into Harry’s arms. Harry stumbled a few steps, laughing.

“Easy!”

“We did it!” Louis exclaimed.

“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?” Niall asked. “I mean, it’s not like anything’s actually happened yet.”

“It will,” Louis promised. “Just you watch. Or don’t, actually. That would be creepy.”

“I am creepy, remember?” Niall said with a shrug, and Louis could help but agree.

“So what now?” Harry asked. “We’ve got some time to kill.”

“I thought you were giving me the grand tour,” Louis said. “Or did you forget already?”

“I didn’t forget,” Harry protested. “I just thought that was an excuse.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Louis glanced from Harry to Niall and back. Neither one spoke. “All right then. Let’s go.” He set off in the general direction of the fairgrounds, though he was the only one who didn’t actually know where Harry worked. Fortunately Harry and Niall caught up a moment later to lead the way.

From the outside, the fortune telling caravan looked unimpressive. It was small and rickety, and painted a dull, brown colour. The only thing that made it interesting was the elaborate sign that hung above the door.

“Zayn made it,” Harry said, jerking a thumb at the sign. “He’s good at that kind of thing.”

Louis took a moment to admire it – it was quite a creation – then bounded up the steps and tried the door. Locked. Harry pulled a key out of his pocket and held it up. Louis snatched it out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”

_“Hey!”_

Harry was indeed the last one in, but Louis declared that rotten egg or no, he still smelled good enough to eat. Then he kissed him. After a few seconds Niall informed them that he could hardly be considered creepy for watching when they insisted on snogging right in front of him. Louis flipped him off, but pulled away from Harry anyway.

“What’ve you got?”

“Well, I sit there, obviously,” Harry said, pointing at a spindly chair behind a spindlier table. “So I have a few different decks of cards and the crystal ball.”

“How does the table support the weight of the ball?” Louis asked incredulously. “Isn’t it heavy?” Harry laughed.

“The table is sturdier than you’d think,” he said. “It just looks fragile for effect.” He sat down on the table, nearly giving Louis a heart attack. It barely wobbled. “See?”

“I see,” Louis said. “Did you really need to scare me like that, though?” Harry tilted his head. “What?”

“You’re not afraid of a lot of things,” he said. “But you’re afraid of lions and tables?”

“You’re afraid of lions?” Niall asked. Louis glared at him.

“Aren’t you?” Niall thought for a moment.

“Yes.”

“Smart man.” Louis turned back to Harry. “And I’m not afraid of the table, you twat, I’m afraid of you falling through the table and getting hurt.”

“So it’s all concern for little old me?” Harry asked.

“You say that like you’re surprised I care.” It didn’t really sound like that, but Harry shrugged and didn’t answer, and his eyes flashed in the way that Louis knew meant he was thinking about his mother.

“So you just sit in this chair and tell them stuff, or is there more to it than that?” he asked, hoping to distract Harry. It was Niall who answered, however.

“He’s got quite the elaborate getup to go with the role. I wasn’t kidding about wanting to try on your headscarves, by the way.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He moved over to a chest against the back wall and opened it to reveal a mound of thin fabrics that filled nearly the entire container. “Knock yourself out.” 

Niall’s eyes widened at the size of the pile. “That is a lot of headscarves.”

“You could swim in that,” Louis chipped in. 

Niall reached into the chest, pulling out a white scarf with gold lace trim, and another patterned with dinosaurs. “You’ve got good taste, mate.”

“So what else have you got?” Louis asked, turning back to Harry. Harry moved to another chest and opened it, pulling out a long shirt covered in ruffles and sequins. Louis could see several more shirts like it in the chest.

“This is most of the rest of my costume,” Harry said. “I stay behind the table, which is covered in a cloth long enough to reach the ground, so anything below the waist doesn’t really matter. This plus a headscarf and some jewellery about does it.”

“What kind of jewellery?” Louis asked. 

Harry shrugged. “Some bangle bracelets, locket necklaces,” he said. “Sometimes I put earrings or necklaces in my hair.”

“Sounds elaborate,” Louis said. “Simply elaborate.”

“Can you say that?” Harry asked, a bemused smile on his face. “It’s a little oxymoronic.”

“Have you met me?” Louis asked, turning to examine the walls of the caravan, which were lined with shelves. “ _I’m_ a little oxymoronic. What’s all this?” The shelves held dozens of boxes, baskets, cans, and jars filled with all manner of things.

“Décor, if you’re asking officially,” Harry said. “Unofficially?” He pointed to a jar with a few dark, floating lumps. “Monkey eyeballs.” A jar of green slime. “Mucous.” A jar with red chunks suspended in yellow liquid. “Aborted fetus.” He paused. “I don’t usually say that one. It's a little... It’s just what I think of it as.”

“Don’t worry about offending me,” Louis said. “What is it really?”

“Red liquorice in apple juice.” 

Louis laughed. “You came up with these things?”

“I was bored!” Harry defended himself. “Do you have any idea how much time I’ve spent in here?”

“No,” Louis said honestly. “How long have you been with the carnival?”

“I’ve been working as Hanzi for almost a year now,” Harry said. “Joined the carnival about a year before that.” 

Louis frowned. “But you can’t – what about school?”

Harry shrugged. “Mum kicked me out when I came out,” he said. “Joining the circus seemed practically logical at the time. And it’s worked out pretty well.”

Louis was at a loss for what to say. He’d always complained about school, sure, but he’d also taken it for granted, in a way. It was just what was people did. Except not all people, obviously.

Not Harry.

“Has he told you about the makeup yet?” Niall said, popping up beside them and breaking the awkward silence. He had the dinosaur headscarf tied around his head, and a dozen more tied to it, dangling down. Harry and Louis burst out laughing.

“You know that’s not how headscarves are traditionally used,” Louis said between chortles. 

Niall shrugged. “I like it.”

“Me too,” Harry said. “I might have to try that sometime. But oh God, does it look funny!”

“What did you say about makeup, Niall?” Louis asked after a few moments.

“He’s really good at it,” Niall said. “He looks almost otherworldly, all sharp cheekbones and dark eyes.”

“Sounds like Zayn,” Louis commented.

“I modelled it on Zayn, actually,” Harry said.

“And where did you learn to use makeup?”

“My sister taught me,” he said. “She liked to practice on me. Said I was a good model. And she paid me in sweets, so I was happy.”

“Will you show me?” Louis asked. 

“My skin gets dry if I use the makeup remover too much,” he said. He thought for a minute, then brightened. “I could do you!” 

Louis was startled. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not that into makeup and stuff.”

“That’s just because you’ve never tried it,” Harry said. “Everyone looks hotter with eyeliner. Trust me.” He looked so eager that Louis couldn’t help but cave.

“Fine,” he said. “But sometime I want to see you in all your Hanzian glory.”

“I’m sure you will,” Harry promised. “So I can do your makeup?”

“I suppose,” Louis sighed, and Harry actually _clapped_ with excitement. He quickly produced a box of makeup from the trunk with his shirts and sat Louis at the little table.

“I won’t do too much,” he said, pulling out nearly a dozen tubes, compacts and brushes. Louis eyed them suspiciously. “Just a quick one. It’s been a long time since I did this for anyone.”

“So you’ve done this before?” Louis asked.

“Mhm. Close your eyes.” Louis obeyed, and Harry began brushing some kind of powder across his face. “I used to do Zayn’s makeup for the elephant performances, before I got promoted. He’s lousy at it. It’s part of the reason I modelled the look off him – easier than changing it up, and it works just as well. I just adjusted the colours.”

“The other reason for keeping it being that he’s gorgeously hunky?” Niall said. There was a smile in Harry’s voice when he answered.

“Yes, I suppose that was part of it.” The brush moved away from him, but a moment later he felt another one. “Smile,” Harry ordered.

“Imagine trying to do an elephant’s makeup,” Niall said suddenly, and Louis snorted. Trust Niall to come up with something like that.

“You’d need an awful lot of it,” Harry said, chuckling. The brush disappeared again and Louis heard the click of a compact closing, and then another opening, and then there was another brush dancing across his face. It was kind of relaxing, actually.

“You have really nice cheekbones,” Harry commented as he worked. “Hardly need any contouring at all. God, you look amazing already, and I haven’t even put on the eyeliner.”

“I always look amazing,” Louis said, and Harry laughed.

“True, but this is a whole different kind of amazing.” He snapped the compact shut. “Okay, on to the eyes.”

Harry applied a light touch of grey eyeshadow, smoothly blending it outwards (or so he said, Louis wouldn’t know) before finally moving on to the promised eyeliner. This part took the longest yet, and Harry kept having to tell him not to move. Louis was bad at that. At last, Harry allowed him to open his eyes.

“Have a look,” he said, handing Louis a small hand mirror. Louis looked into it and blinked. Well damn. He looked dramatically different, smoulderingly handsome and mysterious in a way he’d never seen himself before.

“You were right about the eyeliner,” he managed after a moment. “Wow.”

“You like it?” Harry said. Louis glanced up at him.

“What do you think?”

“I think you like it,” Harry said. He took a step towards Louis, getting close enough that Louis had to crane his neck to see him. “And I think I definitely like it.”

Harry kissed Louis hard, his tongue licking into Louis’ mouth as his fingers gripped Louis’ shoulders tightly. Louis’ hands traced Harry’s jaw, applying just the slightest bit of pressure, but Harry’s breath hitched. Louis whined – the angle was uncomfortable, too high – and shoved himself off the chair. Harry wound up sprawled across the table with Louis on top of him. Louis took a moment to be grateful it was still holding together, but mostly he was distracted by other, much more important things.

“Is that what eyeliner does?” Niall said after a while, and Louis and Harry both jumped, having completely forgotten he was there. “Because if that works on birds,” he continued, “I so want in.”

“It’s not universal, obviously,” Harry said, pushing himself into a seated position, Louis still clinging to his chest. “But yeah, eyeliner is hot.”

“So hot,” Louis said dreamily. “I want to fuck myself.” 

Harry cracked up at that, absolutely cackling with laughter. “There you have it,” he managed between gasps of laughter. Even Niall grinned. Louis just shook his head.

“So do you think it’s safe to go back yet?” he asked after a moment. 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Liam looked pretty determined, so that’s probably happened by now.”

“Which just leaves the risk of walking in on them,” Niall said.

“And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you,” Louis said, his voice heavy with meaning. 

Niall shrugged. “I had no way to know,” he said. “At least you still had all your clothes on.”

“For fuck’s sake, Niall,” Louis said, throwing his hands in the air. “Just because you’re a constantly horny teenager doesn’t mean we all get naked at the first opportunity.”

“Whatever,” Niall said. “So do we go back or not?”

“I say yes,” Harry said. “We’ve given them a good half-hour or so.”

“Fine by me,” Louis said. “But I am so not going first.”

~*~*~

Harry knocked gently on the door of the trailer. As the most polite member of the group, he had been elected Designated Disturber of the Snogging. Well. Potential Disturber. Probable, maybe.

“See, Niall?” Louis said, pointing at Harry. “That’s called knocking. It’s a polite way to ask for entrance. You make your hand into a fist, and then use your knuckles-”

“All right, all right, you’ve made your point,” Niall said. “Can we go in now?”

At that moment, the door opened to reveal a smiling Liam. His hair was mussed and his shirt far more wrinkled than when they’d left him, but his eyes were dancing. Louis wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him look happier.

“Hi,” he said, opening the door wider and motioning them in.

“Hi?” Louis repeated. “Is that all the thanks we get?” 

Liam slapped his arm lightly. “Shut up,” he said, but it could hardly be considered scary when he was still grinning like a loon.

Zayn was sprawled on the sofa, his position languid and relaxed. Judging by the dents in the cushions, Liam had been there too when they’d knocked. Zayn raised a hand in greeting as they filed in.

“Well?” Louis said after a moment’s silence. Liam chuckled and took his place on the sofa again, manoeuvring himself around Zayn’s legs.

“Impatient as ever,” he said. “But yeah. Thanks, I guess.”

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Zayn said lazily, pointing to Harry. “But thanks.”

“See what happens when you listen to your friends?” Niall said, clapping. “Mother knows best.”

“And that,” Louis said, “is absolutely creepy. Like, seriously, I’m terrified.”

“Agreed,” Liam said.

Niall shrugged. “It comes with the territory.”

Louis shook his head. “It really doesn’t.”

~*~*~

Zayn and Liam were as different from Harry and Louis as night and day. Where the latter were loud and public about their relationship, Zayn and Liam preferred a quieter dynamic. They rarely kissed in front of the other boys, their affection for each other mostly only visible in touches, words, and looks. But that was one thing the two pairings did have in common: They loved each other, with an intensity that belied the newness of the relationships.

Louis continued to spend the night at Harry’s with some degree of regularity. They spent hours discussing everything and nothing, from music to books to strange customers (okay so it was mostly nothing). They learned each other’s bodies and minds as well as they knew their own. And sometimes they just lay in silence, not moving, not speaking, just taking comfort from the knowledge that the other lay at their side, breathing in time with them.

“Hey Louis,” Harry said one night. It was late, and they had been quiet for quite some time. Louis stirred sleepily beside him.

“Yeah?”

“Have you thought about the end of the summer yet?” 

Louis froze, suddenly wide awake. He had, occasionally, but never for very long. He didn’t want to think about it. Maybe if he didn’t think about it then it wouldn’t happen. Maybe if he didn’t think about it then they wouldn’t have to leave each other. They could just stay like this forever.

“Lou?” He’d been silent too long, he realized, but he tried to play it off anyway.

“Not much,” he said. “Live in the moment and all that, right?”

“Louis, I’m serious,” Harry said, and Louis bit his lip. 

“I don’t want to think about it,” he admitted quietly. His chest felt tight, and he willed himself not to cry. “I don’t want this to end.”

“I know, babe,” Harry said, touching his hair. “I don’t either. But avoiding the problem won’t help anything.” Louis knew he was right, even if it had always been his preferred tactic.

“I’m supposed to be going to Manchester University,” he said slowly. “But I don’t know if I want to.” He squeezed his eyes closed, pressing his cheek to Harry’s chest. “Not without you.” He glanced up. “Do you think I could stay on?” he asked. “Keep working the carnival? Then we wouldn’t have to be apart.”

“Absolutely not,” Harry said, and Louis shrank back at the harshness of his voice. “You are going to university,” Harry continued. “You are not going to miss out on that because of me.”

“But I don’t want it without you,” Louis said, pushing himself up. “I’d rather be in the circus with you than at uni without you. Can’t you see that?”

“Not an option.”

“Why not?” Louis asked, frustrated. “Why not, if it’s what I want?”

“Because I won’t let you throw away your education!” Harry said. His voice was rising, and Louis realized his was too.

“I don’t care about my education!” he said. “I care about you!”

“You should care!” Harry said, and were they yelling now? That was new. “You don’t belong here!”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have fucking everything,” Harry said. “And you want to throw it all away for a stupid summer romance with someone you’ve known for all of two fucking months?”

Louis’ blood ran cold. There were a thousand things Harry could have thrown at him without his batting an eye, but somehow he managed to hit the one thing that hurt.

Louis knew he had fallen hard and fast for Harry. He knew that this had grown from nothing in what seemed like a heartbeat, and he knew that it could all fall apart in another heartbeat. He knew the risks, knew the odds, knew it was probably stupid, but he’d fallen anyway. He’d had a hundred arguments with himself over it, and heard a hundred whispers from other people. But through it all, the one constant factor had been Harry, who had fallen just as hard and fast.

At least, that was what Louis had thought.

“Fine.” Louis pushed back the blankets and rolled out of bed. Where were his clothes?

“What are you doing?” Harry said. Louis found the pile where he’d shucked off his things, had it only been a few hours ago?

“Leaving,” Louis replied, shoving one foot into his jeans. “Since you obviously don’t want me here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry said. “I didn’t – Louis, stop.”

Louis didn’t stop. He pulled his shirt over his head and walked out. He didn’t even take the time to put on his shoes, carrying them instead. The ground was uncomfortable under his bare feet, and he could barely see, but he kept walking.

“Louis, wait,” he heard Harry call from behind him. “Stop. Please.”

He didn’t stop.

It wasn’t until he reached the road that he realized how poorly thought out this was. It was the middle of the night, and he was miles from home. The buses had all stopped for the night, and he couldn’t very well call anyone. But he couldn’t go back.

He was seriously considering sleeping under the stands or in a game booth or something when he spotted a taxi stopped at the light. He waved, and a moment later the taxi pulled up next to him.

“Where to?” the driver asked as he climbed inside. Louis gave his address and then sank back against the leather seats. He almost didn’t notice when the cab stopped in front of his house, he was so lost in thought. He put the ride on his credit card, wincing at the price. Too late to do anything now.

He let himself into the house, trying not to make too much noise, but as he climbed the stairs to his room, Jay stuck her head out of her room.

“Louis?” she said. “I thought you were staying with Harry tonight.”

“I was,” Louis said, and in spite of himself, a tear rolled down his face. He wiped it away roughly, but it was followed by another, and another. Jay frowned in concern, moving closer to him.

“Louis, what happened?” she asked.

“We… had a fight,” Louis said. Jay winced, reaching out and hugging him, and Louis lost all semblance of control and cried. He cried because it hurt, because he missed Harry and it hadn’t even been an hour yet. He cried because a hug from his mother couldn’t fix things the way it could when he was five. Jay said nothing, just let him sob until the material of her nightshirt was soaked with tears.

Eventually she led him downstairs and made them each a mug of tea. Louis didn’t drink his right away, just held it, letting the hot liquid warm his hands. The only sound in the kitchen was the clink of metal on ceramic as Jay stirred milk into her tea. At last she spoke.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Louis didn’t, not really, but he gave her the briefest possible rundown anyway. Her eyes widened when he mentioned not going to university, but she said nothing, for which he was grateful. When he finished she said nothing for a long minute.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said at last. “I think you both need to talk and figure things out.”

“Figure what out?” Louis said, his voice bitter. “I thought maybe this would last, but I guess it was just another stupid summer romance.” The words hurt, but he forced them out anyway. “Those always end come autumn. This one just ended a few weeks early.”

“If that’s what you think,” Jay said. Louis could tell she didn’t believe him. He wasn’t sure _he_ believed him. “What are you going to do tomorrow?” 

Louis winced, remembering he had work. “Avoid him, probably,” he said. “And text Liam to pick me up in the morning.” 

Jay smiled sadly. “Okay,” she said. “Do you need anything else?” 

There were so many things he needed, but she couldn’t give them to him. He shook his head. “I’ll be up soon.” 

She nodded and rested a hand on his head. “Good night, Boobear,” she said. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he said, unable to stop himself from smiling slightly at the pet name.

Jay went back upstairs, but Louis sat at the kitchen table for a long time. At last he took a sip of his tea – cold. He grimaced and poured it down the drain. When he finally went to bed, he didn’t fall asleep for a long time.

~*~*~

Louis was very nearly late the next day for about six separate reasons. He’d forgotten to change his alarm from “@ Harry’s” to “Liam pick-up”, and that combined with the fact that he was dead tired from getting next to no sleep meant that if his mom hadn’t woken him up, there was no telling how long he would have slept. Then he almost forgot to text Liam for a ride, which Liam, ever the organized one, was less than happy about. And to top it all off, he’d left his shoes in the cab, so he had to find another pair, and the only ones he could find were too small and would probably give him blisters before lunch. All in all, it was looking to be a shitty day and it hadn’t even started.

“Don’t even start,” Louis told Liam and Niall as he climbed into the backseat. Liam looked ready to give Louis a full lecture on responsibility and punctuality and not inconveniencing your friends and all that shit, but by the grace of God, something about Louis’ face or voice stopped him. Unfortunately, Niall (while at least not an overzealous parent) was less capable of taking a hint.

“What happened to you, dude?” Louis said nothing, but Niall persisted. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

“I didn’t.” Louis voice was clipped, and he stared resolutely out the window.

“What-”

“I’m not going to talk about it,” Louis said. “It’s not even ‘I don’t want to talk about.’ I’m just not going to talk about it.”

“But-”

“Niall.” Louis’ jaw was clenched tight and his fingernails dug into his palms. “I. Am not. Going. To talk about it.”

Niall got the message at that point, and turned to face the front. He met Louis’ eyes in the rearview mirror, however, and the look he gave him wasn’t cowed or annoyed or anything one might expect, given how Louis had behaved. It was sympathetic. Almost pitying.

Louis looked away. This was the problem with having people who he’d been friends with for so long they knew him as well as he knew himself. Niall knew that Louis wasn’t really mad – well, he was, but not at Niall. It was a defence mechanism. A desperate hope that maybe if he was outraged enough, if he got that flame of fury burning hot enough and bright enough, he wouldn’t have to feel the pain.

Niall knew that Louis was trying not to feel the pain, so Niall knew that there was pain to be felt. And when he looked at Louis like that, Louis knew it too.

The rest of the ride was spent in complete silence, which was both a blessing and a curse. Nobody asked any questions, but there was absolutely nothing to distract Louis from his thoughts. Perhaps the questions would have been better. In any case, it was a relief when they finally arrived. It was a relief to be surrounded by the bustle and noise of the carnival, which didn’t know about Harry and Louis and wouldn’t have cared if it did. The world kept spinning, and the Ferris wheel with it.

Louis threw himself into his work at the ticket booth. It was as dully repetitive as ever, but it was a distraction, and if he focused on it hard enough he didn’t have to think about anything else. He didn’t even want to break for lunch, choking down a shitty sandwich as fast as he could and then getting right back to it.

After work, Liam and Niall were surprised when he told them that he didn’t want to hang out, that he’d catch a bus home instead, but they didn’t press him. Louis was fairly sure they were putting the clues together, but they said nothing as he waved and set off for the bus station. He was grateful.

The next bus wasn’t due by for at least twenty minutes, so he settled down to wait, pulling out his phone to distract himself. He was very good at distracting himself.

“Lou! Get in!” He looked up. It was Niall, leaning out the window of Liam’s car. He stared at him in confusion for several seconds. “Are you coming or not?”

Louis stood. “Sure.” He climbed into the car still confused, and Liam pulled away from the curb. “Why are you here?” he asked, when several minutes had gone by and nobody had said a word. Niall and Liam exchanged a glance.

“Harry wasn’t exactly in the mood to hang out,” Liam said after a moment.

Louis felt like he’d been punched in the gut, though he couldn’t tell if it was just the mention of his name or if it was because-

“Is he okay?” The words felt torn from his throat. He hadn’t meant to say them, but he had to know.

“He’s pretty messed up,” Liam said, and Louis didn’t know how to feel about that. “Zayn said they made him take the afternoon off because he was scaring the kids.”

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Niall asked. His voice was unusually soft. Louis bit his lip.

“Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice,” Liam said. “But we hope you’ll tell us.”

Louis chewed on his bottom lip. “How much do you know?”

“Not a lot,” Liam answered. “Zayn didn’t say much. Just that Harry was having a rough time. He didn’t actually implicate you, but like. We put two and two together.”

“And you got four, right enough,” Louis said. He picked at a fingernail, thinking. “We had a fight. About, like, after this summer ends. We had – different ideas.”

“What does that mean?” Niall asked. 

Louis shook his head. “It means it’s over,” he said. “It was just a stupid summer romance.”

Liam frowned. “I don’t think-”

“Those were his words, Liam, not mine. ‘Stupid summer romance.’”

“He said that?”

“He said that.” Louis looked between the two of them. “Now can we please drop it?”

~*~*~

The next few days were hell. Actually, hell might have been an upgrade. Everything reminded Louis of Harry, from his sisters playing dress-up ( _“Harry says I’m going to be a princess!”_ ) to the smell of vanilla (their first kiss in his trailer). Even just stepping outside the ticket booth brought back memories of Harry facing down the homophobic douchebag through his little girl.

He caught the bus home most days, not wanting to deprive Liam of spending time with Zayn but not quite able to bring himself to come along. Niall alternated between riding home with Louis and staying and riding home with Liam. He gave Louis periodic updates on how Harry was doing. Louis never asked for them, but Niall seemed to know he wanted them anyway. It always hurt, but he still craved news of Harry like he craved sunlight. Maybe more so. Harry was his sunlight.

The first few days were more or less the same – Harry was quiet, moody. He barely spoke and he looked and sounded like he’d been crying. It broke Louis’ heart, but at the same time, a part of him was glad. It meant that he’d cared.

After a few days the reports changed. Harry seemed more collected, purposeful, even. He was still quiet, but he seemed better. Those hurt more, even as he knew he should be glad Harry was better. And he was, just… it sucked. Everything sucked.

It had been just over a week when Niall turned to Louis as they sat on the bus and asked him what the argument had been about.

“I’ve waited patiently, I’ve given you space,” he said. “But it’s driving me crazy. What did you argue about?” 

Louis blinked. “I told you,” he said. “We had different ideas for what should happen after the summer.” 

Niall rolled his eyes. “What ideas, exactly?” he said.

“I don’t-”

“Humour me.” 

Louis thought about it for a long minute, then sighed. What could it hurt? Or rather, how could it hurt more? “I didn’t want us to split up,” he said slowly. “I suggested that I could stay with the carnival – with him – instead of going to university.” He shrugged. “He flipped out. I guess he just didn’t want me around.” He tried for a smile, but it was weak. 

Niall stared at him for a moment, then buried his head in his hands. “Of course he did,” he said quietly. “Jesus Christ.” 

Louis frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Niall sighed. “Do you remember when you and me and him went to his Hanzi caravan together?” 

Louis winced slightly. “Of course,” he said. He remembered everything. “When we left Zayn and Liam in the trailer to finally get it on.” 

Niall nodded. “Do you remember what he said about how long he’d been with the carnival?”

“Yeah,” Louis said. “About two years, ever since-” He stopped short, the pieces suddenly slotting together in his head. Harry being kicked out of his home by his mum. Harry joining the circus.

Harry never getting the chance to finish school.

“I’m an idiot,” he breathed. “Oh God, I’m such an idiot.”

“You really are,” Niall said, and ordinarily Louis might have glared at him, but he was too lost in his own realization that everything had fallen apart because of one stupid misunderstanding.

“I cocked everything up,” he said. “Oh God, it’s all my bloody fault. What do I do?” 

Niall stared at him. “What do you mean, ‘what do you do?’” he said. “You fix it.” Louis ran his hands through his hair.

“But I broke his heart,” he said. “I mean, he probably hates me. I would hate me.”

“Would you?” Niall said. “Do you hate him?”

Louis stared at him. “No, of course not.”

“He doesn’t hate you either,” Niall told him. “If there’s anything I can guarantee you, it’s that. I would stake my life on it. What do you do? You talk to him. You tell him the truth. You fix it.” He was right, Louis realized.

“Niall, you’re a bloody prince,” Louis said, kissing him on the forehead and standing up. 

Niall gaped at him. “Where are you going?” 

Louis grinned. There was a light in his eyes that was almost maniacal, one that hadn’t been there for quite some time. “To fix it, of course,” he said. “Where else would I be going?” 

Niall stared at him. “I didn’t mean now!” 

But Louis had the bit between his teeth, and there was no stopping him . A moment later he was at the front of the bus, and a moment after that he climbed off, giving Niall a cheery wave. Niall rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“Bloody idiot,” he called. 

Louis didn't answer. He had other priorities.

~*~*~

Harry’s trailer was dark when Louis got there. It was late, but not that late, so he knocked anyway. There was no answer. He waited for twenty minutes before giving up and heading to Zayn’s. He didn’t bother to knock there, since the sounds they were making were loud enough to be heard through the thin walls. He made a mental note to make a comment to Liam the next day, just to see what colour his cheeks would turn.

The only other place Louis could think to look was the Hanzi caravan. If Harry wasn’t there he would feel bloody stupid for coming back. He pushed down the thought. Harry would be there. He had to be.

He was, or at least, there were lights on inside the caravan. There were no windows – it added to the spooky mysticalness of the environment, Louis supposed – but light leaked out the cracks around the door, except when it was blocked from time to time by a shadow.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, trying to work up the courage to climb the steps and knock, but eventually the light went out, and a moment later Harry walked out the door. Louis caught his breath at the sight of him. It had been eight days since he’d seen him, and that was eight days too long.

Louis was standing in the shadows, so Harry didn’t notice him as he locked the door and descended the steps until Louis stepped forward.

“Hey.”

Harry jumped, spinning to look at him. He looked like he was about to tell him off for scaring him, but then recognition registered on his face, and Louis could almost feel the walls going up.

“Louis.” His voice was controlled, cautious. It hurt. Harry had never talked to him like that before. But God, it was _so_ good to see him too.

Without meaning to, he took a step towards Harry, then another, and a minute later they stood just inches apart. It was just the two of them, alone in the dark together.

And yet somehow, Louis had never felt further from him.

“I’ve been-”

“So I-”

They started to talk at the same time, and then stopped, staring at each other.

“I’m sorry,” Louis said at last, and Harry’s eyes widened, but Louis kept talking. “Niall talked to me – reminded me – you didn’t get to finish school. I should have remembered-”

“I should have explained.” Harry interrupted him. “I just – you have so much ahead of you. I’ll always just be another guy who dropped out of school.”

“That’s bullshit!” Louis said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was a little bit,” Harry muttered.

“And besides, that doesn’t mean anything. There’s all kinds of things you can do without a degree.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, actually,” Harry said. He shifted uncertainly. “I mean, um, if-”

“Just spit it out already,” Louis said, biting back an affectionate smile. Harry kicked at the dirt, then looked up at Louis.

“First off, I owe you an apology as well,” he said. “I should have listened to you. I didn’t want us to be apart any more than you did, I just didn’t want you throwing everything away for me.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Louis said, and Harry shrugged.

“In any case, I spent a lot of time thinking these past few days, and I think I have a solution to both of our problems.” He paused. “I mean, I guess I’m assuming that you-”

“Stop talking,” Louis said. “I mean, I guess _I’m_ assuming that sentence was going to end with some variation of ‘you still want to be with me,’ but I’m right and you’re right, so let’s just skip to the important bit, yeah?” Harry couldn’t help smiling at that, any more than Louis could help smiling back.

“I made a few calls,” Harry said after a moment. “I did some work in a local bakery back home, before – you know.” Louis knew. “I was pretty good at that,” he continued, “and I liked it.” Louis wished he would get to the point. “Long story short,” Harry said, as if he’d read Louis’ mind (because seriously, Harry never said that), “my old boss has agreed to help me find a position in Manchester this autumn.”

Louis’ jaw dropped. Of all the stupid…

“Louis?” Harry said after a long moment. “Say something. Please.”

“I am an idiot,” Louis said obediently. That startled a laugh out of Harry, but it was nervous.

“Not exactly what I was-”

Louis kissed him.

He reached up, grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, and kissed him. Harry barely missed a beat before he was kissing back just as hard, and how had they gone without this for _eight whole days_ when it was a fire in their veins and a symphony in their minds, it was everything Louis had ever wanted rolled into a single point of lips and teeth and tongue and _Harry_.

He didn’t even realize they were moving until he tripped over something lying on the ground and he fell, pulling Harry down with him, not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go.

“I take it you’re interested?” Harry said after several long, beautiful minutes. Louis could have laughed.

“I think that would be a fair descriptor,” he said. “An understatement, perhaps, but. Details.”

Harry kissed him again, long and sweet and perfect.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” Louis said when Harry pulled back again. Harry chuckled deep in his throat, and it was quite possibly the most beautiful sound Louis had ever heard.

“It did seem pretty obvious once I thought of it,” Harry said, and what were they talking about again? Oh right.

“You’d really relocate to Manchester to be with me?” Louis asked, and now Harry really laughed, and that chuckle would have to be satisfied with second place.

“You were willing to skip out on uni to be with me,” Harry said. “But you’re surprised to learn I would leave the carnival to be with you?” It did sound kind of stupid when he put it that way, Louis had to admit.

“It’s less romantic,” he said after a moment. “I mean, running away to join the circus is one thing. But running away to uni together? Who would write a story about that?”

“Maybe you could,” Harry said, and actually, that wasn’t a half bad idea. “Besides,” Harry continued, “I’m running away to work at a bakery, and that’s plenty story-worthy, don’t you think?” 

Louis did think, actually, but he’d rather be kissing. He said as much to Harry, and Harry laughed again – pushing the chuckle down to third place – and complied.

~*~*~

Louis spent the night.

Jay was apparently at least as good a fortune teller as Harry, because she responded to Louis’ text of “Don’t wait up” with “I’m proud of you. Give Harry my love.” Liam was predictably annoyed when Louis forgot to tell him that he didn’t need to be picked up, but he was too happy to be properly mad.

They quickly fell into an arrangement where Louis spent weeknights at Harry’s and weekends at home, though after the first weekend Harry came home with him (okay, he might have showed up halfway through the first one). Liam eventually started staying nights with Zayn, and Niall found himself taking the bus a lot more often.

By the time the summer ended, Harry had indeed found work in a bakery not too far from the university. Zayn wound up tagging along as well – it turned out he was a fair hand at decorating pastries. The five of them rented a tiny flat together on the outskirts of the city, though Niall regularly complained that “I know you’re madly in love but I don’t need to hear that! A man needs his sleep!” He always said it with a smile and a laugh, however, and they would tease him just as much whenever he brought someone home.

Somewhere along the line, Harry mentioned how he wished he’d finished school, and Liam pointed out that he still could. Louis and Harry exchanged a why-didn’t-we-think-of-that look and promptly signed him up for courses.

They were busy, between Harry’s classes and Louis’ classes and the bakery and all the other million little things they had to do, but they were together, so they were happy.


End file.
